


maybe, maybe, maybe

by MakerOfAnarchy



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-16 20:24:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/866247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MakerOfAnarchy/pseuds/MakerOfAnarchy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mini getaway that's not nearly enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	maybe, maybe, maybe

**Author's Note:**

> written for cc-week on tumblr.  
> please take note of the warnings and tags uwu  
> enjoy!

“You think the solution to the heat is getting high?” Chris coughs, rolling down his window. His fingers are heated from holding the joint to Darren’s mouth and he reaches out to hold it out of the window, rolling his eyes. “Your logic baffles me.”

“Nah man, it’ll just make this night much more amazing,” Darren purses his lips and exhales out the smoke, leaning his head back with a ridiculously blissful expression. His hands are loose on the wheel but the roads are mostly clear, dusk is settling and they’ve been out of LA traffic for an hour.  Chris can’t feel too worried. He knows Darren will take care of him. _That’s a nice feeling_ , he thinks as he breathes in the smoke that comes out of Darren’s mouth and fills the car.

“You know, I am absolutely positive this is illegal,” Chris sighs, raising a skeptic eyebrow at the joint when he brings it back inside the car. “You’re gonna be the reason they add marijuana as an ‘influence’ to be fined for if caught. And I will not bail you out.”

Despite all his griping he brings the paper to his lips and takes a hit, the smoke filling his lungs and making him much hotter than he already feels, but he leans back and rolls up his sleeves, content to let Darren take them to wherever they were going.

“They’re not gonna pull me over, Chris,” Darren says it like it’s a certainty, hits his hands against the steering wheel to the beat of the music playing from his radio. “And if they do,” he looks over, grins and raises an eyebrow and forces Chris to take a deep breath, the heat around them overwhelming him, “I’m Darren Fucking Criss. Now kiss me.” He waggles his eyebrows, eyes completely off the road now, and they’re just cruising, eyes locked and the sun setting and any obligations swept under the rug for as long as their time together lasts.

“How much longer until we get to where you’re taking us?” Chris breathes, bringing the joint to his lips and raising an eyebrow at Darren, letting the smoke curl around his fingers and up into his nostrils.

Darren looks over at the nearest road sign they’re passing and furrows his eyebrows, “Uh…like, another hour? Why?” And Darren looks back, takes in the way Chris is posed towards him, joint still near his face.

“Pull over,” he says, and drops his chair back so he can crawl into the backseat of the car Darren had rented for this occasion, a bright red Dodge Dart that’s not really helping their mission of conspicuity, but _whatever_ , Chris thinks, flopping into the spacious backseat sloppily as Darren jerks the car to the side of the road. Chris lies across the seats, running a hand through his hair as his legs hang off to the side. He hears the unbuckling of a seat belt as he takes one last inhale and then Darren is settling on top of him, hands hard and insistent on his face, pulling him closer, making him drop the joint to the floor by his feet.

He stamps it out carelessly in the floor of the car, breathes out hard when Darren pries his mouth open, licking the smoke right out from between his lips, tongue exploring all around. Darren drops a knee between Chris’ legs and presses down, exhaling the smoke back into Chris’ mouth and the sensation is dulled but it makes his senses explode, heat and Darren and smoke and heat _heat heat_ , _so hot_. His stomach is swooping and his groin feels tight, pressed against Darren’s thigh and he’s _burning_ but he feels so fucking good as he yanks Darren down by his hips.

Darren pulls back to say, “You’re paying for that, by the way,” before diving back in, kissing over Chris lips and stroking the back of his neck.

Darren pulls away and gasps wetly against Chris’ neck, placing his lips there and sucking hard enough to mark. Chris arches up and wraps a leg around Darren’s, trying to get impossibly closer, trying to eliminate the space between their bodies to so little that they forget everything but each other.

Darren pulls at Chris’ shirt, throws it in the front seat before sitting up to do the same with his own and a car passes, headlights turned up high against the heady dusk, illuminating their surroundings as Chris runs his hands up Darren’s chest, sliding briefly over his nipples and to his shoulders, yanking him back down to kiss him hard. He pulls at Darren’s curls, product free but so soft, and Chris presses at a spot on his scalp he knows will drive Darren _crazy_ and it does. Darren drops more of his weight onto Chris and moans into his mouth, rocking his hips down.

“Darren, your fucking sweat is dripping on me,” he says, out of breath and feeling like his skin is being lit up every time Darren kisses him so feverishly. It’s true, Darren’s face has sweat dripping down the sides and right onto Chris’ face every time he moves suddenly and Chris is grossed out, he is, but he can’t say much because Darren’s fingers are drenched at the back of his neck. He slides a hand down Darren’s naked back and to the swell of his ass, down to his thighs and Chris hooks himself closer, so much closer, hanging on as they rut against each other.

The whole experience reminds him of Kurt and Blaine being in a very similar position and Chris pulls back to laugh, high and bright against Darren’s ear as he whispers, “You’ve been taking tips from your alter ego Blaine Anderson, I see.”

Darren shoves back down, their cocks still restricted in their too hot, too tight shorts but it still makes Chris moan and curse. Darren leans down to bite at his ear warningly, “Don’t get smart – this was your idea.”

Chris hums and pulls Darren back down by his hair, unable to contain his grin.

\---

When Darren finally pulls up and parks the car on the edge of short cliff, Chris turns towards him and leans on his hand, throwing out their second finished joint and smiling at Darren. “Plan on telling me where we are any time soon?”

Darren just slides out of the car, walking over quickly to open Chris’ door. He pulls him out by the hand, grinning like he’s so proud of himself. “We have a short five minute walk and then you’ll see, okay?” Chris nods and Darren pulls him along a sandy path, only stopping to discard his flip flops.

“Annnnd,” Darren says, speeding up and forcing Chris to do the same, “here we are.”

Chris looks down to the beach where he can see and hear the people, can see the alcohol and drugs from up where they are. The waters are dark and full of occupants, glowing and laughing, hitting around beach balls and so care free, Chris aches.

He doesn’t hesitate as he says, “Okay,” and wraps his arms around Darren when he throws himself at him for a happy kiss.

\---

They’ve been down on the beach with their shoes off and shirts gone for thirty minutes and not one person has approached them. Chris laughs as someone brushes by and knocks him into Darren. Darren wraps his arm around Chris’ waist and Chris leans into him, pressing his lips against Darren’s shoulder through his smile.

“So, what is this place?” Chris asks as they sit down on a semi-secluded log, taking the cigarette Darren offers him. “God, my lungs are going to hate me after this, aren’t they? How do you do this and still run around like you’re a seven year old with unending energy?”

Darren raises an eyebrow and pulls Chris closer by the shoulder, lighting the stick resting in his mouth with deft fingers. “This is just some privately owned piece of land. No paparazzi, promise. If you look close enough you’ll see some of our friends, but I don’t intend to let you get distracted enough to notice any of them.” Darren smirks and takes the cigarette from Chris mouth, puffing on it twice and then leaning in to kiss him, hands insistent on his back. Darren crawls on top of him enthusiastically and they lose their balance on the log, tumbling down to the sand behind it. Chris winces at the hard impact, shoving Darren off. “You’re not really seven, you know. You do not weight forty pounds, _ow_.”

But Darren is gone, up and jogging away, and Chris doesn’t think he has the capacity to get up and run after him.

That is, until Darren appears over him with a grin and a Nerf gun, spraying water over Chris and soaking him to the bone with freezing water probably directly from the Pacific Ocean.

Chris sputters and slumps back in defeat until Darren stops, dropping the gun to the sand and straddling him again, hands all over his chest, tweaking his nipples and rotating his hips down against him. “I just really wanted to see you wet and I figured there was less of a chance of you getting in the water if you were still dry. Also –“

Darren grabs his wrists and snaps glow bands on, breaks one open on his hair and Chris groans, shoving Darren off him again. “ _Why, why, why,_ **why** ,” he chants, and his eyes widen as Darren reveals a small paint bottle, smiling like he’s having the time of his life.

Chris reaches up to snag Darren’s wrist, rolling on top of Darren to snatch the bottle from his hands. “Oh, no, no – no way,” Chris squeaks, sitting back on Darren’s thighs and glaring at Darren. “What did you think you were gonna do with that?”

“Um,” Darren furrows his eyebrows like he’s genuinely contemplating why he had it, “Paint you like one of my French girls?” He phrases it like a question, but his eyes are alight, greens and browns swirling around his dark pupils, all the excitement of a puppy shining through.

Chris opens the paint and splatters it across Darren’s neck, the green color standing out against his tanned skin, even in the night. Chris runs his fingers through it and marks Darren on the forehead, barely managing to stutter out, “ _Simba_ ,” before he’s laughing, sliding off Darren and into the sand, clutching his stomach.

“You’re so fucking high, man,” Chris can hear the affectionate grin in Darren’s voice that makes his heart flutter appreciatively, and then he’s sneezing. He looks down to see his chest covered in rainbow glitter and, “Why didn’t I see that coming?”

“I don’t know,” Darren says casually, leaning over him to press red colored paint into his stomach, tracing the dips and lines. “Now you’re perfect,” he purrs, leaning over to kiss Chris’s sandy neck, his paint colored hand working at Chris’ shorts, sliding them open as he bites at the skin of Chris’ collarbone. He dips his hand into Chris’ underwear to grip him tight, and Chris gasps, arching up and sliding a hand directly up Darren’s green neck to the side of his face, pulling him up to kiss him and making sure to leave an imprint of paint.

“I was already perfect,” he says when Darren slides his hand back to open the flaps of his pants and underwear, pulling Chris’ dick out of the open space and immediately crawling down to sink his mouth around Chris’ heavy length.

He’s sure that this can’t look like anything but what it is, but he finds himself unable to care. Darren had promised no paparazzi so – no paparazzi, and Chris is sure anyone Darren hangs out with has to know that this isn’t out of the ordinary for Darren so he grips Darren by his curls and urges his hips up gently.

Darren swallows around him once and pulls off, straddling his chest and leaning down to say, breath warm and voice deep and low, “I want to ride you.”

“Right now?”

“Right now,” Darren nods and rolls off him, discarding his boxers and pulling out lube he apparently had handy.

“Why do you have that?” Chris groans, wrapping a hand around himself to alleviate the pressure building at the sight of Darren reaching back to work himself open with a grin.

“I figured now would be the perfect opportunity to satisfy my exhibitionist kink,” He presses his head against Chris’ shoulder and groans, his body jolting. He doesn’t know how Darren prepares himself so fast but he does, and before Chris knows it Darren is replacing his hand on his cock and lowering himself down, other hand gripping Chris’ shoulder to steady himself.

Chris looks up to the sky and laughs as Darren starts riding him hard, because he tries to think back to a time when he was so happy and he doesn’t think he can remember it. He tries to think back to a time pre-Darren and it’s not there, there is no pre-Darren. He doesn’t remember how he’d been living without this man who’s so spur of the moment, who drives him insane with his antics and constant noise, who fills his heart with an unidentifiable feeling of ecstasy and joy.

_“Can’t breathe, can’t sleep, crazy what you do to me.”_

Darren drops down, rocks against him and Chris turns his head back down to see Darren, head thrown back and paint all over him, tiny smile on his face as he lifts up and lets gravity take him down hard.

Chris brings a hand to Darren’s neck and pulls him down, and the position makes Darren whine against his mouth, hips working faster and faster. He can feel his need to orgasm rushing up on him so he wraps his fingers around where Darren’s cock is bouncing along with his jerky movements. Darren lets out a strangled, “ _Fuck_ ,” and then he’s spilling over Chris’ hand, clenching around where Chris is still buried deep and Chris manages to shove up once before he’s doing the same with a low groan, hips twitching against Darren.

“You,” Chris pants, running a hand through his sweaty, glitter filled hair, “are going to get us in _so much trouble one day_.” He tucks himself back in and throws out an arm, tired.

“Oh please,” Darren says, sliding his shorts up and collapsing against Chris’ lax arm. Chris pulls him closer and then he’s closing his eyes and falling asleep, the music and his heart beating in time.

\--

He doesn’t sleep for long because Darren wakes him up after what can’t be fifteen minutes, spraying him with water and insisting he get up because they’re playing “ _this song_ , _Chris._ ” Soon he’s surrounding by a lot more people, and Darren is pulling him to his chest.

He shakes himself awake when Darren leaves him and forces him to dance along, shaking the sleep from his eyes so he can see what’s going on. Something cold splatters against his still naked back. He looks over his shoulder to see pink dripping down his shoulders and he turns around, spotting Darren shrugging his shoulders at him.

_“Head is smoking, feelin my heart open.”_

Chris maneuvers through the crowd, moving his body with the pulse of it. He reaches Darren and rolls his eyes as he pulls Darren close to whisper, “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

Darren pouts, “You don’t mean that,” and slides a purple colored hand down his chest, dipping into Chris’ pants. Chris jerks and says, “Are you trying to paint my dick, Darren?” Chris longs for a shower.

“I think rainbow would look wonderful,” Darren says as he starts jerking him in the confines of his shorts. Chris gasps and lets his head fall to Darren’s shoulder as Darren thumbs over his slit very carefully, still rocking them to the beat of the music that Chris can barely hear over the roar of the crowd.

Suddenly Darren is offering him another roll, and Chris just takes the hit and breathes out against Darren’s skin. Darren tilts his head up with the same hand and blows more smoke into his mouth and then Chris is coming, right there in a crowd of people and he can’t remember a time when his heart had felt so light.

\---

Chris wakes up and immediately wants to go back to sleep. The _scorching_ sun is bearing down on his skin and there so much _sand_ , and his stomach feels caked with _something_ and Darren is fucking snoring against his ear.

“Darren!” Chris says, and sits up, admiring the way Darren thumps to the sand. “Please tell me you have a hotel room booked for us s _omewhere_.”

Darren sits up too, startled, and he looks around at his surroundings for a moment before realizing Chris had asked a question. “Huh?”

“ _Hotel room,_ Darren. Unless you planned to shower and sleep in the ocean,” Chris is being sarcastic, and he stands up, reaching out a hand for Darren.

“Of course, I do Chris,” Darren scoffs, bringing a hand up to his chest. “What do you think I am, irresponsible?”

And he grins, happy expression telling Chris not to worry.

 ---

They shower together and rinse off the paint and semen and glitter (well, they try. Chris tries. Darren just kind of laughs at his struggle) and then they collapse into bed together, blinds pulled closed against the ridiculous sunlight.

“How long do we have?” Chris says against Darren’s still partially colored neck.

“I wish I could tell you as long as you want,” Darren sighs, stroking his hip. “But we’re needed back tomorrow. So we have to leave tonight.”

“I don’t ever want to go,” Chris pouts, squeezing Darren tighter.

“Neither do I,” Darren says ruefully, and presses a kiss to his hair. Chris closes his eyes and tilts his head up for Darren to kiss him. He obliges, keeping the pressure light and sweet, savoring what they have to. “You know, when all of this is over, I’m going to bring you back here and we really aren’t going to leave.”

“Darren,” Chris breathes, because suddenly it seems like a lot, and suddenly, he feels a little bit drunk, his head dizzy and his vision blurry as he swallows back happy tears. He stretches his toes against the sheets to tickles Darren’s calves. “Are you – “

“ _Glasses steamed up, I’m dreaming no one can see us; Lying underneath the stars, Jupiter hits on Mars; And it hits me so hard.”_

“Yep,” and Chris can feel the self-satisfactory smile in his voice, against his hair and working its way right into his brain, stirring around and shaking everything up. Darren rolls them over and kisses Chris again, harder this time. “I’m promising you forever.”

_“My eyes are blue but I’m seeing red; And I just can’t shake you out of my head.”_

Chris laughs and squeezes his eyes shut against the nervous feeling in his stomach. “That’s a serious thing you’re promising. Sure you don’t want to save it? Wouldn’t want to tie you down.” And Chris laughs again, fingers clenching against Darren’s skin as tears well again, a little more sorrowful this time.

“Chris,” Darren tilts his chin up, presses a kiss his nose, “look at me,” a kiss to his cheek, one to his forehead, each one like a tiny message that Chris can’t comprehend, not right now. He opens his eyes anyways. “I’m going to give you forever. One day, I’m going to make you so happy.”

“I don’t think I can get any happier than right now, Darren.”

“ _Maybe maybe maybe, maybe maybe maybe; I’m a little bit love drunk.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Title and lyrics from "Love Drunk," by Little Mix. so sorry for mistakes xoxo


End file.
